---- — Let me tell you about my weekend.
I ran home on Friday after work long enough to change clothes and then head to Kokomo with a friend. Got there to discover I didn’t have any water. I tried every faucet in the house, hoping with each one to get a different story.
So, I called the landlord to come fix the problem and then left for Kokomo. (As an aside, renting is the greatest invention ever.)
Landlord calls later in the evening to say the water might be a no-go for a couple days.
I go home Friday evening and decided to just deal with the hassle of having no water. While I was cooking a pot of snow on Saturday — yes, I had a pot of snow on the stove to melt it in order to flush the toilet — I decided enough is enough, and I took a friend up on her offer to spend the night.
After packing up my clothes and other accoutrement needed for my impromptu slumber party, I decided to grab a bite to eat before leaving. Since I was already imposing on her hospitality, I thought, I should at least come fed.
Walking into the kitchen, I saw a mouse dart across the countertop. For longtime readers of this column, you are well-versed in my uncontrollable, irrational fear of mice. There was screaming, throwing of things and running. I decided to skip the food and just leave.
I headed back to Logansport on Sunday morning for church. Once I hit 40 mph, my car started acting up. It was bouncing like I was driving on a trampoline. I pushed it to 50 mph to see how it would behave and almost shook myself to death. That meant a long, slow ride to Logansport and then back to my house.
I was hoping my water would magically be back on in hopes of not putting my friend out for another night, but there was no sign of improvement. And to make matters worse, the mouse was still there and made a mad dash upon my arrival in the kitchen.
I put down three mouse traps, repacked my bag and set out on the long haul to Galveston. At 30 mph, it’s a long haul from Walton.
Get up Monday and head to Kokomo to get my car checked out. Turns out I have two bent wheels. If you’re thinking two bent wheels doesn’t sound like a cheap fix, you’d be right.
I get back home late Monday morning to find two mice had fallen victim to my traps. While standing in the kitchen trying to summon the courage to dispose of the bodies, one of the mice moved. If you live within a 50-mile radius of Cass County, you might have heard me scream. It somehow survived the smack of the trap and was now trying to free itself from its snare.
I emptied the trash can in the bathroom and put it over the mouse. I then placed a full laundry basket on top of the trash can, and then called my neighbor to come kill the mouse.
He had a good laugh at my expense when he arrived to find me standing guard over my makeshift cage with a broom in case of an escape.
The neighbor is also the plumber, so he stayed and worked on the pipes while I went to work. He called that evening to tell me I have water. I got home after work Monday night to find I also had another dead mouse to deal with.
Not the cap I wanted after an already-exhausting weekend.
By the time you’re reading this, I’ll be wrapping up another weekend. And let me tell you, if it’s been anything like last weekend, I’m filing an official complaint with the universe.
Misty Knisely is managing editor of the Pharos-Tribune. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. Follow her on Twitter: @PharosMK